Gemotions

The afternoon sun, usually a welcome visitor, felt like an unwelcome intruder as it streamed into Emily’s cluttered kitchen. The invitation, propped up against the salt shaker, cast a long, shadow that seemed to stretch and distort everything. She scowled at it.

She’d just spent two hours trying to organize her children's toys and was now faced with the prospect of navigating her old high school. The thought made her skin crawl. She glanced at the overflowing laundry basket, then back at the invitation. She slammed a cupboard door shut, the noise punctuating her irritation.